Hamartia
by a-isforalison
Summary: She knew it was illegal, she knew it was toxic. But she was stuck in the middle of nowhere now that Dad had moved them out to Indiana. /or/ Her life falls apart right before she turns 13. 50th fic one-shot [thundercest] [max/phoebe] 13 the Musical inspired AU R&R


**A/N: Happy 50th fanfic! So, this is it, my 50th fanfiction. Thundermans, Thundercest, crime/romance, "13 the Musical" inspired AU. Enjoy, kiddos.**

12 years old and her life is falling apart. In the back of a stupid moving van. Dad picked the bumpiest highway possible. A small part of her thinks he did it on purpose. He divorced the woman she's accepted as her mom, he decided to move them from a city of bright lights and hobos calling her beautiful and asking for change to this little suburb in effing Indiana, and now he's picked a bumpy highway for her to have her ass bruised on.

Phoebe Thunderman's life is ruined.

No more friends, no more boyfriend, no more teachers who already like her.

No more city. God, how she'll miss Metroburg. And not having to hide her powers.

"Pheebs, I promise you'll love it in Indiana, I grew up there, you know, honey, it's amazing, beautiful," Dad promises, trying to cheer her up.

"Yeah, Dad, I'll love having to make completely new friends and finding another cute boy to date and starting my life over like half way through the seventh grade," she sarcastically chirps, "yeah, right."

"Look, honey, I know it's hard but it's for the best, you'll make new friends in time for your birthday, I promise," he sighs.

She brushes it off, knowing she's never going to make friends in time for her birthday. She's a geek and she knows it. _Everyone_ knows it. And she's never going to be able to thrive in some stupid suburb after growing up in Metroburg, New York!

She's so screwed.

* * *

><p>Dad pulls up outside a one story house with a wilting lawn and a stupid chipped gnome. She hates it the second she sees it.<p>

_Oh, God._

"Dad, you did not," she groans, wincing a little.

"I did, don't you love it, Pheebs?" He grins, "this is the place I grew up in, kiddo."

She glares at him. "I hate it."

"Honey . . ." He trails off as she storms out of the van. But she's already gone.

* * *

><p>"Holy shit, someone actually moved here," a male voice whistles.<p>

She turns, irritated. _Whoa, he's cute._ "My dad dragged us from Metroburg," she says, "I hate it here already."

"I don't blame you, Indiana sucks ass," he smirks.

"Yeah," she awkwardly agrees, trying not to say something stupid.

"So, babe, what's your name?" He leans against the fence, pulling out a box of smokes.

Her cheeks tint red, did he just call her babe? "Oh, uh, I'm Phoebe, Phoebe Thunderman. You?" She hopes that didn't sound too sudden.

"Boothe," he says, lighting a cigarette, "Max Boothe." She giggles a little at the James Bond-esque introduction even though every ounce of her morals are screaming to get away from this boy and his smoking.

"Well, Max, I don't think my daddy would want me hanging around a smoker," she admits, a slight playfulness to her voice as her eyebrow arches a little.

"Too bad Daddy's moving boxes. How 'bout I show you around this little village of suck, Phoebe?" His voice goes low, his hand going low too. Straight to her hip.

He's a bad boy and that makes her heart melt a little.

* * *

><p>"So, this shit hole is where all my friends hang out," he says, gesturing to the Dairy Queen, "it sucks but it's got food."<p>

"Oh, that's cool," she says, nervously. Her eyes are stuck on the cigarette burning inbetween his lips. This is so illegal, he's smoking and he's barely older than her.

But she's addicted to the adrenaline.

* * *

><p>There's a party, everyone is wasted and she sees pot brownies lining the counter. It's all illegal and she's sipping on Jack Daniels while he drains a shot of vodka.<p>

The music is deafening and she can feel daddy frowning at the mini skirt she's wearing that's much too short for his little girl.

But Max smirks at her like she's the most gorgeous girl in the world, not eye fucking her like she expected. She swears to God her knees go weak as she chokes down liquor she hates. His smirk turns to a little smile and he asks her to dance, setting her plastic cup aside for her.

She nods, smiling even though her vision is starting to blur.

Her stomach does backflips when he grabs her hand.

* * *

><p>"Moving here was probably your hamartia," he notes on her 13th birthday.<p>

"Really now?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Definitely. Moving to crappy Indiana and befriending a bad boy, that's your hamartia," he chuckles.

"How so?" She challenges.

"Your life was great before, you lived in fucking New York and had friends and shit but now you live in the middle of nowhere where you've become part of the wrong crowd, does that sound like a good thing to you?" He teases.

"It's not necessarily a weakness," she grumbles, "what makes you the expert now, anyways, Maxy?"

"Bitch," he laughs, "you're lucky I don't push you off this roof for that."

"Ooh, big bad Maxy," she giggles, hugging him.

He huffs out a puff of smoke from the cigarette and it paints the night sky.

She realizes he's dangerous, she realizes it's illegal.

But she fucks him on the roof anyways.

* * *

><p>Hold back that follow or favorite,<p>

And trade it for a review,

It'll serve as feedback & motivation for my writing tricks,

And otherwise, I might just slap you.

- Queen Alison the Obstinate


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